Moving On
by DancingTheEndlessWaltz
Summary: Dark deathfic for Heero and Duo with sappy ending. Oneshot songfic. Shounen ai and shoujo ai all over the place. 121, 4x5, and surprise pairing. If that's your taste, read. For every read, Wing Zero blows up a Mary Sue.


This is a shounen ai fic, my first for Gundam Wing, and a songfic to Cowboy Bebop's hidden track, "See You Space Cowboy."

  


Pairings: 1+2+1 (*squee* my favorite) and 4+5 (QuatrexWu Fei? YES! They're perfect for each other!) and a surprise. ^^

  


Setting: Four years after the Endless Waltz OAV, a 20 year old Duo visits the grave of his love. . .

  


POV: Third-person with bits of first-person Duo.

  


Warnings: Character deaths, violence, (if you don't think Heero died at the end of the EW OVA, you might want to go away now), angst, drinking, smoking, drug hints, some religious references, 1xRelena (although I HATE it, I can't deny its being there what with that stupid official artbook pic-thanks a lot H.I.N.T.! _ ), hints at and implications of male/male and female/female relationships (although this is purely shounen ai and shoujo ai, in order to keep my vow not to write hardcore yaoi. If you're looking for the pilots, ahem, joining the mile high club, this isn't the fic for you.)

  


And yes, I know that in canon, Heero's grave was a rather ordinary little plot among others. I've written him having something better than that. ^^ That's really the only major canon change I made.

  


Rating: R for controversial themes and angst. 

  


Format: Song lyrics are italicized, set apart, and bordered with asterisks. Duo's thoughts are italicized.

  
  


"Moving On"

  
  


The young priest sighs as he places fifty dollars on the counter of the florist's shop next to the AC 196 War Memorial.

"You have someone buried there, Father Maxwell?" The clerk, a young woman, appears troubled. "I hate working here. It brings back so many bad memories. . .I was only a little girl back then, living alone with my grandfather. . .so many people died."

"Yeah, I do. The person I loved. . .is buried there."

  


*

_Since I thought everything was over_

_Closing my ears_

_What you're telling me is floating away_

_Towards tomorrow there is no comfort_

  
  


Duo brings a hand to his face, wiping away the tears pooling in his blue eyes. _"Four years. . .only four years. . .yet so much has happened. I can't believe it's your birthday again, Heero. . .if only. . .if only you were here to see it."_

  


Those last four years had been an attempt at returning to normalcy. Duo laughs, but a bitter, cold laugh, at the memories and the futility of their attempting to return to "normal," when they never could be "normal."

Trowa had married Catherine, out of wanting to have an heir for the Barton Foundation fortune, of which he was now the owner. Their marriage had ended after said heir was born-in murder. Trowa, in a flashback of being an assassin, had shot his cousin, his wife, nine times. He had been tried and found guilty of the crime by reason of insanity, and hence had been sentenced to life in the Veterans Psychiatric Hospital, where he had taken up walking the halls, crying, hallucinating-and on one occasion, killing another patient in yet another flashback.

Quatre had seemingly adjusted somewhat better to living in peace, now quite successfully running Winner Enterprises, however, even he was tormented by what he had done to achieve peace. The green-eyed blonde had developed an addiction to drugs, starting out with pot and pills, ending in mainlining heroin in an attempt to escape the pain of his life. Only in the last year, when Duo and Chang had confronted him together, did he finally enter rehab. Chang had threatened him with arrest, and Duo had reminded him what his religion taught about drug use and listed the financial consequences of remaining addicted.

Chang was, in Duo's opinion, the most "normal" of their group. The formerly justice-obsessed boy had taken to his job with the Preventers, which were now mostly a police force, very well, and was now an inspector working in the Earth Sphere. He, unlike the others, had reconciled his past, and was, for all intents and purposes aside from being a "supercop," a normal young man. 

Duo had heard rumors that Quatre and Chang spent a lot of time together and might even be lovers. That didn't trouble him, although he knew that it probably should as a priest, simply because he had wanted both to find happiness, to attain what he could never have attained.

  


The braided pilot of Deathscythe had taken a rather odd road in his own life, nevertheless one he admittedly had been grateful for. As the sayings went, all roads lead to home, or all roads lead to Rome, and both had happened in his case, so to speak.

It had been a rainy, dark night that night after Heero's state funeral, and it had matched Duo's mood at the time perfectly. The young man he had loved, his very best friend whom he had wanted to be so much more, was dead.

Duo had rummaged through the few belongings he had, seeking his semiautomatic pistol, planning to end his life in despair. 

Instead, a small booklet of prayers had fallen out of his late adoptive father's soutane as he lifted it from the lockbox. The American had never seen the booklet before, maybe because it had been concealed, more likely because he wasn't interested in the faith and didn't care.

That night, somehow, the words of hope, of love, of faith had overcame his sarcastic skepticism as he slowly read the book, and the "god of death" had decided that he wanted to become a man of God.

Soon after his conversion, Duo had soon followed his adoptive father's path and entered training for the priesthood. Although he felt that his past had been forgiven, he still felt guilty for the one thing he would never regret feeling despite how hard he tried to regret.

  


It is his feelings toward the person that comes to the forefront of his mind on this day every year. Heero.

  


*

_When the night even prays it disappears_

_What do you believe and where are you going?_

_The shooting star is the color of tears, is like laughing, passing away now._

  


Duo slowly walks through the cemetery that is the AC 196 War Memorial, flower arrangement in hand.

He had chosen a wreath of carefully woven white and yellow roses back there, in the florist's shop. White and yellow, because those colors signified both death in Heero's native Japan and purity of love in Western cultures as his own. Roses, because they were the most expensive flowers and the most durable. A wreath, because he could just hear Heero's voice one more time in thinking of how the "perfect soldier" would have reacted to receiving a flower wreath in life. _"Baka! I am not a horse, Duo-what's wrong with you? Can't you ever be serious? I'm sick of your jokes."_

_"But were you really sick of my jokes? Did you see my teasing you. . .as what it was, my wanting your attention, and liking it even if it was only your anger or ignoring me? If you did, did you even care that I loved you? I know. . .Relena and you spent that night together. . .but then you told me it was just to get her to leave you alone. . .so was that. . .an attempt to tell me you felt for me as I felt for you? I know. . .I know I shouldn't be like this. I should like women, not you. . .but you. . .you were my only friend and my only love. . .Heero."_ With that, Duo realizes that tears are running down his face as he walks up the stone steps carved into the hill, slowly walking into the gazebo grotto at the top.

  


*

_There's nothing. don't change._

  
  
  


The first sound he hears, before even that of the waterfall below which the grave is located, is wailing. _"She comes here. . .comes here every year. She loved him. . .just as much as I did. . .yet he hated her. Hated her dependency, her stalking him, her whining, her turning him into her pet healing project. . .and he wasn't interested in her. He never looked at her. . .that way he looked at me that time. Never said that he relied on her. Nevertheless. . .he died in her arms. I was locked up in Deathscythe. . .by the time I got out, got to him. . .he was dead. He always said near the end that if he was to die, he wanted it to be in my arms. . .instead. . .it was in Relena's embrace that he died, not my own. . ."_

Duo stares for a second, at the woman in pink wrapped around the small memorial black onyx obelisk before the waterfall, wailing out her grief, then at the teddy bear and bouquet of pink roses resting beside the obelisk. "Hey, Relena," he says, affecting his usual chipper attitude. "Never gets any easier, does it?"

"No, it does not, Duo. . ." Relena manages. "It does not. It has been four years. . .but he's still with me, you know? I see him in a lot of things, I hear him. . ."

_"The girl's crazy."_ The braided man attempts to hold back a laugh. He had kept his skepticism when it came to things of that nature. "Yeah, yeah."

"I. . .know you want to be alone now, Duo." Relena manages. "I. . .I've been here all day. I must return to work. I will take my leave. One question first. Did you love him as I did?"

"Yes. That I did."

*

_Even if life is deceased_

  
  


Duo slowly places the flower wreath on the ground near the obelisk.

_"While Relena may have been devoted,"_ he notes, _"she was too busy crying to even wipe the dust from the stone."_

Taking a bandanna from his pocket, he wipes away the dust to reveal the full brilliance of the silver-engraved inscription, carved into solid black onyx.

_"Yuy, Heero. AC 180-196. "Perfect soldier," pilot of Wing Zero. May no more ever suffer the fate of the boy who lies here, one who fought war and died for the sake of ending war."_

"I wonder. . .wonder how things woulda been if you'd made it," the young man standing at the grave whispers. "Would we have been together someday? Would all our lives, of those of us living, taken the paths they did? I know. . .I know that I should be healed. . .that I shouldn't want to think about what a relationship with you would have been like. . .cause it's a sin to love other guys in the way that I loved you. . .and still love you. I admit it. . .I love you."

The sound of the waterfall covers the sounds of crying as Duo vainly attempts to gain composure. He reaches into his bag, taking out the fish in a bag of water, dropping it into the pond over the grave. "Keep him company, little guy. Heero always said he liked goldfish."

  


*

_You cannot extinguish this love_

  
  


Looking around for anyone watching him, Duo sees no one. He drops to a squatting position, hugging the obelisk for a few minutes, letting his tears fall freely. "I. . .I shoulda came right out with it and told ya. . .that ya weren't just my friend, my comrade-that I loved you. I'm tellin' ya now. . .although I know you can't hear me. I know. . .know we probably won't be together when I die. . .although it would be the best if ya could be, because then. . . then, without our genders in the way, there would be no reason why it would be wrong for us to love each other."

  


*

_To live eternally._

_Even if the dream is hiding in the darkness_

  
  


"But it's over now. . .I'm sorry, Heero." Duo chokes, his tears forming small puddles on the ground. "This. . .this never shoulda happened. If I'd repaired Deathscythe with that last upgrade I wanted rather than takin' it apart. . .I woulda had more than enough ammo and power to carry us both-ya wouldn't have had to use self-destruct, you wouldn't have been so injured internally from the blast that you died no more than a half hour later. Even if I'd not done that. . .I shoulda been the one to self-destruct. The cockpit in Deathscythe was more blast-protected, and I was in better condition than you ever were. . .I woulda just been broken up pretty bad and in the hospital a few weeks. I wouldn't have died. . ."

Duo looks out from the gazebo at the falling rain. "Yeah, man. . .even the angels are cryin' for ya. . .the thing I regret the most. . .although I shouldn't regret it. . .is that I couldn't give you the thing you said ya wanted-if you died, to die in my arms. . .and instead, you died in the arms of a woman you cared nothing for. . .I. . .I think it's time for me to leave now. I gotta take confessions. . .rather than make them. Bet ya'd never thought I'd be a priest. . .for real, didja? I never did either."

He gently removes two other items from the bag he has brought. "I saw ya. . .puttin' items at Trieze's grave. You said it was tradition in your culture to leave things that someone liked. . .so I'm doin' that," he mumbles, placing a bottle of the alcohol that Heero was only today now old enough to legally drink at the headstone as he leaves. "See ya. . .my Heero."

  


*

_I got a rainbow._

_In my hands. . ._

  
  


Duo sighs as he leaves the cemetery, walking past the flower shop. "Sir? Are you one of the pilots?"

"Don't broadcast it, lady," he mumbles. "Yeah, I was. What's it to you?"

"One of you guys. . .saved my and my grandfather's lives. One of you stopped the suit that had its full artillery trained on our building. I was just a little girl then. . .but I remembered one with huge wings that took the blast full-on and managed to fire back."

"That. . .that would have been the person I was visiting the grave of. I never understood why he became so interested in self-sacrifice to save the lives of others. . .normally, before then. . .he just wanted to die and take as many others with him as possible. Oh, I'm sorry for rattling on like that."

"It's more than all right, Father Maxwell. . .hey. . .take this." The flower girl reaches into her basket, drawing out an odd device on a simple chain. "That woman in pink left it last year. It was so well-crafted. . .and it didn't look like simple dog tags. . .so I couldn't just leave it for someone to take. But since you knew him. . ."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Duo turns the item over in his hands, realizing at once what it is: a combination card key and portable data drive.

  


On arriving at his study, he locks the door behind him, then quickly powers up Heero's old laptop, plugging the drive into one of the ports, as he had seen Heero do many times in the past. _"It's askin' me for a password. My name? Why not. Probably not it, but-wwwhat? I'm in?"_

Duo sits there for moments in utter shock, reading love poems, Heero's reflections on his life and regrets apparently written between operations, the diary of his friend-then finally reaches the last file, entitled "note2uman.doc."

_"Yeah, Duo. If you are somehow reading this, one of three things has happened. The first possibility is that you, being the little sneak you are, somehow stole it, in which case. . .I'll kill you or kiss you, your choice ~_^ . The second possibility is that I finally got the nerve up to show it to you, in which case. . .we'll probably be laughing together over drinks. The last and most likely possibility, though, is that I'm dead. This last operation. . .I have a very bad feeling about it. As you know, we just managed to reassemble Wing Zero and Deathscythe, and neither are at their best. Secondly. . .Wu Fei actually thinks Maremeia is right, and he's a worthy opponent. I'm writing this as I have Wing Zero set on self-repair, and it's done. . .so I have to go now. Love ya, man. Heero."_

The braided priest moves a tissue over his eyes, then looks up at the clock. _"Man, I've been here too long. It's already six o'clock. Gotta close my personal study and whatnot here, open up the sanctuary, leave, and catch dinner someplace. . .for one of the first times since then. . .I feel so happy. Like bouncing off the walls, wanna buy for everyone happy."_

  
  


*

_The voice goes passing in my deep mind._

_The morning I pray in front of the truth_

_There are some things that never change._

  
  


The buzz of the phone awakens Duo from his sleep, induced by half late hours and half intemperance the night before, when he, Chang, and Zechs had attended the annual celebration at the Respectable Inn, there in the city of Truce.

"Hi! I'm from the Lier X. Agerate corporation," the chirpy voice on the other end sounds, "and have we got a deal for you. Our records say that you're a priest. Well, you can take it on the road and make money with our very own portable confessional-"

"No thanks," Duo mumbles into the phone. "I run a strictly not-for-profit church here."

As he places the phone back on the hook, the young priest becomes aware of a sharp, burning pain in his arm, as if the bone were melting through the skin. Attributing it to his folly the night before, he positions his arm on a pillow, grits his teeth, and attempts to sleep.

  
  


*

_Love will be coming back here again._

  


Over the next several months, that day and that incident faded into the background of Duo's mind. Events at the parish were quite busy that year. Weddings, funerals, confirmations, and more had packed his schedule, as had rebuilding the church, which had fallen into disrepair and still showed the damages it had incurred in the war.

"Hey." The soft voice drifting through the chapel could only belong to one man.

"What'cha doin' here, Quat?"

"Oh, you and your funny nicknames," the blonde Arab laughs as Duo looks away from the newly repaired wall. "I was thinking we could eat out and chat a bit. I know of a great place around here that's one of my business ventures."

"Yeah, I was settin' up for the night and preparing to leave for dinner anyway." Duo runs a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling weak and clammy as hot, boiling pain shoots along his spine.

Quatre's face reflects deep concern. "You OK, man? You're not looking good."

"Yeah, yeah, couldn't be better," Duo laughs through gritted teeth. "It's not. . .not as bad as some times I've been hurt. I think I've just been doing too much lately. Need a vacation. What's Winner Enterprises got along that line?"

"You're a card, man. Actually, we don't do travel agency things. . .however, I was thinkin'. . .Chang and I are going to Hawaii on Earth here. . .Zechs wanted to come too, so maybe all of us could go."

"That would be cool." Duo sighs, the pain departing for a second.

  


The men sit in the restaurant, laughing and crying over memories of old times over dinner and dessert. Quatre stares at Duo intently as the braided ex-pilot finishes the baklava. "Man-"

"Don't tell me you're sweet on me too."

"Don't flatter yourself. Heero was, I think I like Chang better though. I'm just concerned." Quatre nods.

"Why?" Duo looks into the green eyes searching his own.

"You have a tremor. I've noticed it all night. Your hands shake slightly, your shoulders look like they're quivering-Duo!"

The young priest lies on the floor, oblivious to the world around him, in the throes of a seizure. 

  
  


*

_Love never dies_

_Love never feigns_

_Love never ever fades away_

  
  
  


The room, which Duo instantly recognizes as a room at the hospital for former and current pilots, appears as if he is looking through a set of green-colored glasses. He looks up quizzically at Quatre on one side of his bed, Chang on the other, and Zechs and Noin standing at a distance near the door. Then he sees something else-his soutane has been replaced by a hospital gown. IVs train from his arms.

"Man, Quat, no wonder ya have problems with your businesses if the food does this to people. But I'm fine now, except for the green-"

Quatre only looks away. Chang appears near tears as he speaks. "Duo. . .it was not the food. You are suffering from Gundanium poisoning."

"Whatever that is. Just get them to undo this so I can leave-"

"No, Duo." Chang's voice quavers. "You. . .you're dying. Remember after the last battle, when the Preventers insisted that we follow them back to the hospital here, but you insisted on cradling Heero in your arms, though he was already dead, and walking away alone? The reason. . .was that anyone who cumulatively is exposed to Gundanium. . .will be poisoned if the exposure is high enough, and we had reached the outer exposure limits. . .all of us. The poisoning. . .can lie latent for three to five years, in which time you were perfectly healthy. . .that night. . .we all went through treatment-all of us except for you."

"So this is it for me."

"Close. Your body is shutting down, Duo." Quatre mumbles.

"Then. . .I don't wanna die here! I gotta live-"

"You're dying anyway. . .but I. . .I understand," Zechs manages. "Where do you want to go. . .to spend your last days? I think Noin and I and Chang and Quatre can care for your needs."

"I. . .I wanna go to that place. . .the cliff. . .where Heero and I talked that night in the last year of the war. It's on L2."

"I think that can be arranged."

  
  


*

_This love won't be faded away._

_You can't fade away this love_

_which means (it) leaves forever_

_Breaking darkness_

  
  


Duo trembles in pain as he lies in a bed in the lounge, now turned into a small hospice, of Quatre's private transport. The morphine had worked in the beginning to keep the pain down-but even that is almost worthless now. Chang gently swabs his face with a wet cloth, attempting to soothe what he can of his friend's pain. "Why didn't you come back with us. . .man. . ."

"I was afraid. . .they'd just let Heero's body be scooped up with the others and buried in some common grave. . .and. . .and I felt guilty. . .that he had to die in Relena's embrace rather than mine. . ." 

"I knew you two loved each other. . .Quatre and I debated the whole time whether to set you up on a date or not. . .it is to my deepest regret that I did not overrule him and do that."

"It was wrong of me to feel the way I did for him. . .if only I'm healed. . .if only. . .if only. . ."

"I hope he's there with you. . ."

"I hope so as well. . .nevertheless. . .I'm pretty sure he won't be." With that, Duo Maxwell gave in to sobbing.

  


*

_When you pass the phantom_

_Freeze in the passing time_

_Then love is waiting_

_In the far beyond rainbow_

  
  


"Noin! You can't do that! What would everyone say?"

"I have already done it, Zechs. . .for all everyone knows, if this works, the child is ours. I. . .in my culture, if someone dies without a child, they have died without hope. And yes, I knew he was a priest. . .and that he didn't have any feelings for women. . .and would be offended if he was still around enough to know. Nevertheless. . ."

"Noin. . .it may not work."

"I know. . .know that. If it did not, I will. . .accept that."

  


Quatre and Chang lift their friend out of the vehicle they have rented at the station to transport him to the cliff. "Man. . .we're here."

The words somehow pull Duo back from his drugged half-consciousness. "We. . .we are?"

"Yeah, open your eyes man. I know it will hurt. . .but it's worth it. . .beautiful view tonight."

Duo blinks, amazed to see the green gone from his vision, despite the edges blurring and fading. The panorama of stars is just as that the night Heero and he had lain on the cliff, side-by-side, friends, comrades, both wanting to be so much more but with so much in the way. The young man moans in pain and sorrow, tightly clutching the rosary in his hand, attempting to think of one last prayer as a fatal sleepiness overtakes him.

"Duo? Are you there? I bet you like this-" Quatre's voice trails off as he hears one last whisper from the priest. . .then nothing more. 

  
  


*

_You got a rainbow_

  
  


Twenty years later, in the city of Truce. . .

  


A twenty-five year old woman dressed in the dress uniform of an inspector with the Preventers slowly walks to the now double grave of the AC 196 War Memorial. _"Mother. . .Relena finally told me who my father was, last month. . .and. . .it feels so odd. . .especially since. . .what happened last year. . .who. . .who I fell in love with. . .but I guess since we can visit our fathers' graves together. . .it would be a fitting memorial."_ The woman places a wreath on the memorial of Heero Yuy.

  


A voice that sounds as if it's always carrying a laugh, a smile, resounds. "Hiroko?" 

"Yeah, I left work before you did, love. I was waiting for you."

  


With that, a woman looking about five years younger, her hair a strange purplish shade, also dressed in the official uniform of a Preventer inspector, walks to the next grave with a set of flowers. _"Maxwell, Duo. AC 180-201. Once known as the 'god of death,' in death a man of God. Died as a result of war-may it never be repeated."_ She lies the bouquet of roses on the grave at her feet, wiping a tear from her eye. "I know I'm not doing the best thing in regards to faith. . .but I only hope we will be forgiven. . .and while we will have different regrets than you. . .I have accepted those."

  


The women stand there, looking deeply into each other's eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you."

  


Hiroko Yuy and Twain Maxwell Marquise hold hands as they walk out of the War Memorial.

  


*

_Rainbow in your hands. . ._

  


~fin~

Edited to add:

AGHHHHH! Why didn't someone _tell_ me about that glaring chronological error! It was supposed to be twenty years all along, not _fifteen_! *pokes reviewers 


End file.
